And play the humble Host:

Our Hoftefs keeps her State, but in the best time
We will require her welcome.

[They fit.

Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our Friends. For my Heart speaks, they are welcome.

Enter firft Murtherer.

Macb. See they encounter thee with their Hearts thanks, Both fides are even here I'll fit i'th' mid'ft,

Be large in Mirth, anon we'll drink a Measure

The Table round. There's Blood upon thy Face. [To the Mur. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Mach. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.

Is he dispatch'd?

Mur. My Lord, his Throat is cut, that I did for him. Macb. Thou art the beft o'th' Cut-throats; yet he's good, That did the like for Fleance: if thou did'ft it,

Thou art the Non-pareil.

Mur. Moft Royal Sir,

Fleance is 'fcap'd.

Macb. Then comes my Fit again :

I had elfe been perfe&;

Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rock,

As broad, and general, as the cafing Air:

But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in

To fawcy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe ?

Mur. Ay, my good Lord: fafe in a Ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gafhes on his Head;

The leaft a Death to Nature.

Mach. Thanks for that;

There the grown Serpent lyes, the Worm that's fled
Hath Nature, that in time will Venom breed,

No Teeth for th'prefent. Get thee gone, to morrow

We'll hear our felves again.

Lady. My Royal Lord,

[Exit Murtherer.

You do not give the Cheer; the Feast is fold

That is not often vouched, while 'tis making

'Tis given with welcome; to feed were beft at home; From thence, the Sawce to Meat is Ceremony,

Meeting were bare without it.

The Ghost of Banquo rifes, and fits in Macbeth's place. Macb. Sweet Remembrancer !

Now good Digeftion wait on Appetite,

And

And Health on both.

Len. May't please your Highness, fit.

Macb. Here had we now our Country's Honour, roof'd, Were the grac'd Perfon of our Banque prefent;

Who may I rather challenge for Unkindness,

Than pity for Mifchance.

Roffe. His abfence, Sir,

Lays blame upon his promife. Pleas't your Highness

To grace us with your Royal Company?

Macb. The Table's full.

Len. Here is a place referv'd, Sir.
Mach. Where?

Len. Here, my good Lord.

What is'c that moves your Highness?

Macb. Which of you have done this?
Lords. What, my good Lord?

Mach. Thou can'ft not fay I did it: never shake
Thy goary Locks at me.

Roffe. Gentlemen rife, his Highness is not well. Lady. Sit, worthy Friends, my Lord is often thus, And bath been from his Youth. Pray you keep feat, The fit is momentary, upon a Thought

He will again be well. If much you note him

You fhall offend him, and extend his Paffion;

[Starting.

Feed, and regard him not. Are you a Man? [To Macbeth. Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appall the Devil.

Lady. O, proper ftuff!

This is the very painting of your fear;

This is the Air-drawn-Dagger which you faid
Led you to Duncan. O, thefe flaws and ftarts,
Impoftors to true fear, would well become
A Woman's story at a Winter's Fire

Authoriz'd by her Grandam: shame it seif !-
Why do you make fuch Faces? when all's done
You look but on a stool.

Macb. Prithee fee there:

Behold! look! loe! how fay you? [Pointing to the Ghost.
Why, what care I, if thou canft nod, fpeak too.

If Charnel-Houfes, and our Graves muft fend
Thofe that we bury, back; our Monuments

Shall

Shall be the Maws of Kites.

[The Ghoft vanifkes.

Lady. What? quite unmann'd in Folly?
Macb. If I ftand here, I faw him.

Lady. Fie for fhame.

Macb. Blood hath been shed e'er now, i'th' old time
E'er humane Statue purg'd the gentle Weal;

Ay, and fince too, Murthers have been perform'd
Too terrible for the Ear: the times have been,
That when the Brains were out, the Man would die,
And there an end; But now they rise again
With twenty mortal Murthers on their Crowns,
And push us from our Stools; this is more strange
Than fuch a Murther is.

Lady. My worthy Lord,

Your Noble Friends do lack you.
Mach. I do forget-

Do not mufe at me, my moft worthy Friends,
I have a strange Infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me.

Come, Love and Health to all,

Then I'll fit down: Give me fome Wine, fill full

[As he is drinking, the Ghoft rifes again just before him.

I drink to th' general joy of the whole Table,

And to our dear Friend Banquo, whom we mifs,
Would he were here; to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.

Macb. Avant, and quit my fight, let the Earth hide thee: Thy Bones are marrowlefs; thy Blood is cold;

Thou haft no fpeculation in thofe Eyes,

Which thou doft glare with.

Lady. Think of this, good Peers,
But as a thing of Cuftom; 'tis no other,
Only it fpoils the pleasure of the time.
Mach. What Man dare, I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Russian Bear,
The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan Tyger,
Take any shape but that, and my firm Nerves
Shall never tremble. O be alive again,
And dare me to the Defart with thy Sword;
If trembling I inhabit, then proteft me
The Baby of a Girl. Hence horrible Shadow,

S 4

Un

Unreal Mock'ry hence. Why fo,—be
-be gone

[The Ghoft vanifbes.

I am a Man again: pray you fit ftill. [The Lords rife. Lady. You have difplac'd the Mirth, broke the good Meeting,

With most admir'd diforder.

Macb. Can fuch things be,

And overcome us like a Summer's Cloud

Without our special wonder? You make me ftrange,

Even to the difpofition that I owe,

When now I think you can behold fuch fights,

And keep the natural Ruby of your Cheeks,
When mine is blanch'd with fear.

Roffe. What fights, my Lord?

Lady. I pray you fpeak not; he grows worfe and worse, Queftion enrages him: at once, Good-night.

Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.

Len. Good-night, and better Health

Attend his Majefty.

Lady. A kind Good-night to all.

[Exeunt Lords.

Macb. It will have Blood they fay; Blood will have Blood: Stones have been known to move, and Trees to speak ; Augures, that understood Relations, have

By Maggot. Pyes, and Choughs, and Rooks brought forth The fecret'ft Man of Blood. What is the Night?

Lady. Almoft at odds with Morning, which is which. Macb. How fay'ft thou, that Macduff denies his Perfon, At our great bidding?

Lady. Did you fend to him, Sir?

Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will fend:
There's not a one of them, but in his Hou e
I keep a Servant Fee'd. I will to Morrow
(And betimes I will) to the wizard Sifters.

More fhall they fpeak; for now I am bent to know
By the wort means, the worst, for mine own good;
All Caufes fhall give way, I am in Blood
Spent in fo fa, that should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:

Strange things I have in Head, that will to Hand,
Which must be act.d, eerthey may be fcann'd.

Lady.

་

Lady. You lack the Seafon of all Natures, Sleep. Macb. Come, we'll to Sleep; My ftrange and felf-abufe Is the initiate Fear, that wants hard ufe:

We are yet but young indeed.

SCENE IV.

Thunder.

[Exeunt.

The Heath.

Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.

1 Wit. Why how now, Hecate, you look angerly? Hec. Have I not Reafon, Beldams, as you are? Sawcy, and over-bold, how did you dare

To trade and traffick with Macbeth,
In Riddles, and Affairs of Death;
And I the Miftrefs of your Charms,
The clofe contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or fhew the glory of our Art?
And which is worfe, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward Son,
Spightful and wrathful, who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now; get you gone,
And at the Pit of Acheron

Meet me i'th' Morning: thither he
Will come, to know his Destiny;
Your Veffels, and your Spells provide,
Your Charms, and every thing befide;
I am for th' Air: this Night I'll fpend
Unto a difmal, and a fatal End.

Great Bufinefs must be wrought e'er Noon,
Upon the Corner of the Moon

There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound,
I'll catch it e'er it come to ground;
And that diftill'd by Magick flights,
Shall raife fuch Artificial Sprights,
As by the ftrength of their Illufion,
Shall draw him on to his Confufion.
He shall spurn Fate, fcorn Death, and bear
His hopes 'bove Wisdom, Grace, and Fear:

And

you all know, Security

Is Mortal's chiefeft Enemy.